This song is a step back into the world of the fantastic. I do love writing my fictional tales in song form. Also, I have long been a writer of fictional prose, as well. In point of fact, there’s a series of novels I’ve been working on since the late 90s. Around the end of 2012, I once again got to work on one of the novels in that series, and I was absolutely consumed by the work. I think I spat out close to forty thousand words in about five or six days. It got to the point where, even when I was away from my computer and focusing on other tasks, part of my mind was always still in the storybook world. Of course I didn’t find myself transported into the world I had made, but still, the mental fixation was enough to inspire this song.

Thus far this album has songs on it to honor the darker shades of my past, the bright gleams of both past and present, and various passions and scars. It needed a song to honor The Writer. This is that song.

Getting Lost
Lyrics and music by Katt McConnell

I started writing the other day,
A book that’s been long in the making.
Out through my fingers, the words found their way,
They consumed me in dreaming and waking.
I visited realms I wrought with my pen,
Their denizens, of my mind’s descent.
And though I’d step away now and again,
They would follow wherever I went.

Just close your eyes,
As you once more reprise:
There is no reason to worry.

It’s clear to me now—
I see that somehow
I’m getting lost in the story.

It began with events half-remembered,
Envisioned as though I’d been there.
I lived a life half-dismembered,
In the world of the real and that of my chair.
As any writer will tell you they do,
My characters had wills of their own.
But this was a bit different, and as the word count grew,
It got much harder to find my way home.

Just close your eyes,
As you once more reprise:
There is no reason to worry.

It’s clear to me now—
I see that somehow
I’m getting lost in the story.

Next came the waking visions,
The sightings of fantastical creatures.
Rendered with nature’s precision,
I knew their outlandish features.
The night I awoke and parts of my bed
Were swapped with wood wild and black,
I whimpered as I pulled the blankets over my head,
For I knew there was no turning back.

Just close your eyes,
As you once more reprise:
There is no reason to worry.

It’s clear to me now—
I see that somehow
I’m getting lost in the story.

Now in the mornings I waken
Confused, bewildered, afraid.
My grip on my sanity’s shaken,
For I’m now in the world that I made.
I’m not sure how I got here, or how to get home,
But this nightmare’s the worst that I’ve had.
If the gods hear my pleas in their heavenly dome,
Let it be that I’ve simply gone mad.

Open your eyes
To the alien skies—
Now is the time to worry.

I’m not in right now,
Because some way, somehow,
I’ve gotten lost in the story.